The Elephant in the Room

It might be time to discuss the elephant in the room.

Namely, the fact that I’ve been single for nearly a decade with not a boyfriend in sight.

A decade does seem like an unusually long time to find love.

I’m not complaining, mind you, just noticing that it does bother me a little.

Especially when I have friends who seem to leap from relationship to relationship with hardly a break in between.

I wonder, is there something wrong with me?

Am I somehow broken or damaged?

Imperfect in ways that make me unlovable?

Of course, it’s really not about me, is it?

It’s about serendipity.

The irony is that the older I get, the more suitable I become for a relationship yet the farther away it all seems to be.

I’ve never felt more alone, going through another cancer scare by myself with my family and friends for support.

Where’s my significant other?

Late, apparently.

But if the old adage is true, and good things come to those who wait, then every day brings me one step closer to complete happiness.

I’m not saying a romance is the end-all-be-all, just that I’m expecting a landslide of good karma to come round to me again at some point in the near future.

Eventually, the stars and planets will align and I’ll find what I’m missing, no?

And I can’t wait to banish the elephant from the room.

Celebrate love

Everyone is celebrating their anniversaries, or so it seems.

Facebook is filled with love.

‘Tis the season, I guess.

I can’t help but think back to my own wedding in February of 1996.

Hard to believe we were married for almost 10 years.

It felt impressive back then to have been married that long.

However, it doesn’t seem that amazing now compared to people who are hitting 15 or 20 years together.

My parents hit 50 years of marriage this past week.

I know.

That’s pretty major!

They celebrated with a pool party for the Fourth of July instead of hosting a socially distant anniversary party.

Truth be told, my mother didn’t want to celebrate it at all.

Let’s just say that marital bliss can be elusive when you’re living in a house with a 90 year old blind husband.

As for my own marital aspirations, more than anything, I’d really like to settle down with someone, shack up and live out our golden years together.

But since that’s not happening, for better or for worse, I think I’ll just have to be satisfied taking care of myself.

So here’s to the season of love and anniversaries.

May we all find reasons to celebrate our loved ones this summer and always.

Michelle’s home for wayward cervixes

It’s funny.

A doctor can shake up your world by announcing that on a scale of zero to cancer you’re a one, then dismiss the risk a week later by telling you that your biopsies had no significant abnormalities.

At least that’s the end result of my biopsies.

No significant abnormalities.

Why in the world am I a “one” then?

The end result of all my abstinence, doctor’s visits and biopsies is that I am fine and all I need to do to stay healthy is have regular PAP smears.

Huh.

So, I’m healthy BUT I have a predisposition for cervical cancer?

Nothing wrong with my cervix EXCEPT it’s a misbehaving a little?

Friends have come out of the woodwork to share their own cancer scares and it’s been very comforting to talk to women who have gone through what I’ve been through.

The support has been amazing and it’s nice to know that there are options out there besides the ones espoused by modern medicine which can help me.

All this is to say that I am fine.

Cancer scare is over for now.

My naughty cervix is may be skirting the boundaries of what’s allowable for a cervix – to just sit there, take a pounding, and occasionally pass a baby through it – but it’s still within healthy limits.

Nice to know.

Coconut EVERYTHING

Retail therapy is honest-to-goodness therapy, is it not?

It always makes me feel better.

Take for instance my latest foray into online shopping.

I hit up Ulta for all things coconut scented.

Coconut deodorant.

Coconut body spray.

Coconut perfume.

Coconut dry shampoo.

Even a little coconut sponge.

I’m in a coconut mood.

If orange blossom is my winter fragrance, then coconut is definitely my summer fragrance.

I feel all beachy and boho wearing it.

My hair should be splayed around around me in luxurious textured blond waves.

Sure, I have a misbehaving cervix, but who cares?

I smell like a tropical vacation.

On a scale of zero to cancer. . .

On a scale of zero to cancer, I’m at a one.

At least that’s what the doctor told me.

Nevertheless, I am quite nervous about my most recent biopsy.

I should have the results back in under a week, so that’s a blessing.

At least I’ll know where I stand.

This is the second time my doctor has had to go in and biopsy tissue.

It’s not my favorite thing in the world, resting on a bed, high up in the air, with a camera and a huge light pointed at my nether regions.

And don’t get me started on the stirrups!

The pinching and cramping was no fun.

I spent the rest of the day clutching a heating pad to my abdomen, in an effort to tame the pain.

Ironically given my family history, I’m inclined to just have them take my equipment.

Because it doesn’t comfort me to hear I’m a one on the cancer scale.

I want to be a zero.

So if you can spare a moment, think good thoughts for me.

I could use some positive thoughts right now.

Bitch Slap

It was a relaxing weekend.

I did next to nothing ALL WEEKEND LONG.

That’s sort of par for the course, when sheltering in place.

I watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

And E.T.

I guess I’m in an 80s mood.

I also went to Rene home which he now shares with his new girlfriend.

I brought along a friend so I woudn’t have to drive all the way to Seaside by myself.

The food was delicious, but the company was extraordinary.

It’s always good to see old friends.

Especially ones you can tease mercilessly.

What most people don’t know is that once upon a time, when Rene was married, his wife bitch slapped me for twirling my hair.

Apparently, it was a pet peeve of hers.

So she cracked me one right across the face.

This story gets told time and again to all of Rene’s girlfriends.

Each time, they are shocked.

Rene’s new girlfriend was suitably appalled on my behalf.

And you know what?

I twirled my hair in front of her and guess what?

No bitch slap!

That’s a win in my book.

I’ve swum in that pool

The other day, an ex-boyfriend of mine posted birthday photos of his kids to facebook.

They were taken in his parent’s beautiful manicured backyard and I couldn’t help but notice the pool in the pictures which took me back 25 years to when we were wild teenagers fooling around in that pool.

Good to know it’s still seeing good times and young hearts.

Man, did I have a blast in that pool.

Swimming with the boys.

Goofing off with girlfriends.

I remember supervising his high school sister in his parent’s house over the weekend when her parents were away my junior year in college.

She threw a HUGE party in the backyard.

The kind of party where some drunk kid throws up on the front lawn and they break into the parent’s exceptional wine cellar and steal vintage wines.

I eventually kicked out almost all but the innermost circle of friends.

The cops were eventually called by the neighbors, but I was so agro about the whole party I cleaned up all the recycling and garbage so the COPS FOUND NOTHING!

Lucky me, no?

Not a cigarette butt, not a bottle cap, not a cork nor bottle.

Just me, floating in that beautiful pool.

And his sister, surrounded by friends at the fire pit.

Never underestimate the power of appearance

The other day I admitted to Tejas that the man I was going out with was unemployed and living with his parents.

Naturally, Tejas asked me why was I wasting my time.

The answer I gave him:

Don’t underestimate the power of appearance.

He’s tall, like a tree tall.

And I can’t help but imagining myself climbing him like Jack climbed the beanstalk.

Only to slide down that huge tree trunk.

OMG.

Did I really say that?

I did.

Don’t think I don’t question my own sanity.

Why spend time with someone so clearly in need of a rebuild?

Well, the answer is simple.

Lust.

No, I’m kidding.

Really, it’s that everyone is deserving of love.

I might not latch my wagon to him, but I’ll certainly go toe-to-toe in a race with him.

Never underestimate the power of appearance.

I should be so fucking lucky

Hi!

I’m back.

Literally NOTHING is going on, though.

Work continues.

Sheltering in place continues.

I’ve managed to sneak out of my house for a date or two, but THAT’S ABOUT IT!

This weekend, a dear old friend Rene is hosting a small barbecue with his girlfriend.

I’ve opted to invite a friend to come with me so I don’t have to drive alone to the party which is in Seaside.

It should be a lot of fun.

Rene is very good at food in general and barbecue in particular, judging from his last get together.

Also, he has spare bedrooms so we can stay the night without worrying about driving that treacherous Highway 17 late at night after 2 beers.

Anyhow, all this is to say that I’m going to be meeting Rene’s new girlfriend for the VERY FIRST TIME and I’m excited.

It’s not every day that I get to meet Rene’s new girlfriend.

If luck would have it, they met right before lockdown and moved in together soon after so I’m very intrigued to see who has won over his heart so quickly.

He literally invited me over “their house.”

Isn’t that sweet?

Yeah, I thought so too.

I should be so fucking lucky.

Update on weight loss

As of today, I’ve dropped 20.2 pounds.

Nothing to sneeze at, for sure.

I feel better.

I move easier.

I look slimmer.

All thanks to Optavia and my Coach Cat.

It was a rough few weeks when my son was deployed to protect the state capital.

I struggled to not drink.

I wasn’t always successful but I noticed something interesting.

When I drank, I didn’t sleep as well as when I refrained from drinking.

And I had cotton mouth all night long.

Yuck!

Who wants a rough night’s sleep with cotton mouth?!

Not I.

So I’ve found it easier to turn down alcohol now, even when I’m stressed.

I’ve learned my lesson.

I still miss beer.

And the occasional carb.

But overall, I’m quite pleased with the direction the scale is moving in.

Here’s to the next 20 pounds!